


next to me

by ghostknife



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Nightmares, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-26 03:30:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15654876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostknife/pseuds/ghostknife
Summary: Mollymauk and Caleb are no strangers to nightmares - they both know well by now how to be there for one another.





	1. shattered on the ground

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for Caleb-typical nightmares, I guess? Let me know if I missed anything with tags, wasn't quite sure if there was anything that needed to be tagged.

Astrid’s there in the dim light of the room, a faint smile pulling at her lips that crinkles the corners of her eyes and Caleb feels a distant pulse of happiness, though it’s quickly dismissed. It’s not the Astrid he loved, she’s older and there’s - Eodwulf’s there, too, just to the left of - of _Master Ikathon_ and Caleb’s heart stutters just at the sight, a mix of fear and anger churning in his gut. Something tell him he’s not their focus tonight, though, and the thought keeps his feet cemented in place, despite desperately wanting to escape.

Caleb looks down at his hands. His uniform sleeves are crisp, clean red linen accentuated with gold and white embroidery at the hems, perfectly matching those of the Soltryce Academy, those of the Empire. He has no bandages or gloves covering up the burn scars on his hands and when he he up turns his palms, there’s a thin coating of fresh soot that makes bile rise in the back of Caleb’s throat.

He’s already afraid, but when he looks up from his hands to see Eodwulf dragging in Jester by her wrists, the fear only manages to grow stronger, knees threatening to give out underneath him and his heart kicks evermore rapidly in his chest. He wants nothing more than to coat his hands in flame and tear Eodwulf away from his friend but he does not move, his body will not let him, he simply stands and watches as Jester struggles in the man’s grasp and Astrid advances forth.

Caleb feels a hand grasp his shoulder. Master Ikathon.

“Disgusting heretics.” His voice rumbles through Caleb’s ear and it’s strong, certain and in a weird sort of way it almost … settles him. It’s unnerving, thinking there’s still parts of his mind that want to listen to this man. “You did good to bring them to me, Widogast.”

Caleb can’t bring himself to say anything, not even when Astrid’s knife is searing hot in the palm of her hand as she brings it up to Jester’s throat. He just watches, hearing distant voices murmuring around him - _‘it’s for the Empire, these horrific creatures will not be missed, they take what we provide for granted and it will_ not _be squandered.’_

Caleb blinks and there’s several flashes in his vision, moments of his friends being dragged in one by one as more blood coats Astrid and Eodwulf’s uniforms. He feels nothing except the firm grip of Master Ikathon on his shoulder as his body and mind continue to grow numb.

It is a surprise Caleb doesn’t wretch when Mollymauk is dragged into the room, already bloodied and beaten to shit when he’s thrown to Caleb’s feet, looking up at him like a wounded animal. Caleb feels his love for this man bubble up in the back of his mind and his heart almost shatters from that alone, but his iron-molded mind persists and still has it in him to set aside the attachment like Trent’s taught him to all those years ago. For the greater good, an echo of his master’s words reminds him in the back of his mind.

It’s all strange and Caleb feels detached to his walking form, like he’s watching someone else move and feel in his own stead but he also knows that somewhere, this is him, still. This Caleb’s buried somewhere, deep back in the recesses of his mind and can be dragged out if someone digs enough. That _frightens_ him.

“This one is your’s.” Caleb stumbles forward with a shove from Trent, his voice almost distant despite the distance. “Show him what you are, Widogast. He deserves to know.”

“Caleb?”

Molly’s voice is loud and bright in his ear and it breaks away the numbness, quickly replaced by many, many emotions, too many to list - disgust, fear, dread, so, so, many others, each one terribly awful and Caleb can feel his heart about to burst it’s way through his chest and his knees quake beneath him but a flame starts to flicker in his hand and he cannot quell it.

_“Show him what you are, Widogast.”_

Trent’s voice booms again and before he knows it his hand snaps up, flinging a column of flame as powerful as his Master’s words right at Molly, setting him ablaze.

Caleb’s hand is coated in thick, black ash as his spell comes to an end, and once it fizzles he feels like he’s snapping all over again. His knees finally give out from underneath him and he crumples to the floor, tears spilling down his face as he watches Molly burn in front of him. He reaches his hands into the flame, grabbing his partner’s shoulders and shaking him and screaming Mollymauk’s name over and over until his throat is raw and strained, even after he feels embers dancing in his lungs.

“Caleb?” Molly’s voice comes again, vivid, clear and Caleb wraps the man up in his arms, flames easily catching on the fabric of his shirt and the pain’s white-hot and intense but he can’t be bothered to move, he deserves to burn, he did this, he did this, this is what he _deserves._ “Caleb, Caleb you’re -”

Caleb blinks and suddenly he’s shooting up right in bed, heart pounding and he’s coated in a thick layer of sweat and his first instinct is to scream for Molly, though the sound comes out aborted at the strain in his throat. It only takes a quick look beside him to see Mollymauk sitting up right next to him in the dark of the room, a mix of relief and pain rushing over him.

“Caleb, darling, you were having a -”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Caleb throws his arms around him, pulling Mollymauk close against his chest, hugging him with all his strength, as if he let’s go of Molly, he’s going to vanish into ash. Molly wraps his arms around Caleb in turn, though a little more forgivingly.

“Molly, Molly, Molly,” Caleb sobs repeatedly against his partner.

“I’m right here, Caleb, it’s okay, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’m not going anywhere.” Mollymauk says, squeezing him.

_“Es tut mir Leid,_ Mollymauk … I ...”

Molly continues to hush and soothe him for a minute or so, rubbing broad circles into Caleb’s back as he rocks him back and forth softly. Eventually he tries pull back from Caleb’s tight grip but his arms snap Molly back against him once he tries to move, still deathly afraid of letting go.

“I’m not going to let go of you, Caleb, just want to look at you. I’m not leaving.”

Cautiously, Caleb loosens his arms around Mollymauk and moves his hands to grip his partner’s biceps. Molly starts to sit up, making sure to keep at least one hand on Caleb as he shifts around, now gripping his shoulder as strong as Caleb’s holding onto his bicep, his free hand stroking Caleb’s hair out from in front of his face.

“You’re with me now, no one’s going to hurt you.”

“Not _me-”_ Caleb hisses out between a sob, shaking his head. _“You_ \- Molly, I hurt you, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m _sorry -”_

“You didn’t hurt me, though, Caleb. I’m just fine, alright?”

“I burned you because he told me to, I did - I _did it, Molly, I -”_

“No, you didn’t.” Molly’s voice is stronger, more firm than previously and the certainty helps reel him back in, if only a little. “You just had a nightmare, dear, you didn’t hurt me at all. I’m okay. You would _never_ lay a hand on me and I know that for certain.”

Caleb doesn’t answer that, just looks down into his lap as a few more sobs shake his body. He’s worried that he’s actually capable of hurting Molly, if he’s killed his fucking _parents_ surely it’s still in him to -

“None of that, now. Look at me.” He looks up at Mollymauk, taking in a shaky breath, grip still firm on his biceps. “It helps to you to say it aloud, right? I’d like to hear you say it, please, dear. Those were just bad dreams, it wasn’t real.”

“That… It wasn’t real.”

Molly nods at that, encouraging him. “It was a nightmare.”

“It was just a nightmare.”

“...And you didn’t hurt me.” He squeezes Caleb’s shoulder.

“You … I .... didn’t hurt you. You’re okay.” Caleb takes a deep, shaky breath, nodding as he holds Molly’s gaze. It really does ground him to say these things himself, to take the thoughts and mold it into something more real. “We’re okay.”

“Good.” Molly’s voice is softer now. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

Caleb nods, moving to wrap Molly in a hug - far more gentle, this time - and pressing his face into his shoulder, trying his best to align his breath with Mollymauk’s. He’s not sure how much time passes before he gets himself together enough to try to talk again. Caleb notices now just how strained out his voice is; he must’ve been yelling in his sleep.

“I am sorry that I woke you up.” He says quietly.

“Nope, no reason to be.” Molly runs a hand over Caleb’s hair, continuing to rock him softly. _“I’m_ sorry you had to go through another nightmare. I’m glad to be there to get you out of it, for real.”

Caleb swallows back the lump in his throat at the kindness. _“Danke.”_

“Of course.” Molly presses a kiss into Caleb’s hair. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

As the last bits of adrenaline fade out of Caleb’s system, it really hits him how exhausted he is. His limbs feel ledded and heavy, his throat scratchy, and his muscles ache. He’s exhausted but it would be a miracle if he falls back asleep tonight. These things take so much out if him, physically and mentally; he’s not even quite sure what time it is, as disoriented as he is right now. He feels numb and tingly but being pressed against Molly at least makes things feel sort of tolerable. 

After a few moments he feels Molly start to shift beneath him, eventually trying to coax him into a sitting position. “Up, now, c’mon … there you go.” Caleb carefully entwines his fingers with Molly’s. “How you feeling?”

“Fucking awful.” Caleb says, snorting. “But ... better than earlier. Progress.”

Molly frowns and gives his hand a soft squeeze. “Think there’s any chance of you going back to sleep tonight?”

He feels like Mollymauk already knows the answer to that. It’s almost always no, tonight’s not any different. “No.”

“Okay, darling.” He rubs his thumbs over a few of Caleb’s knuckles. “I’ll stay up with you.”

“Mollymauk, it’s early - I think - you should get your rest while you can. I will be fine.”

“I’d like to stay up with you.” Molly says, voice sincere. “You’re not being a burden, if that’s what you’re worried about, really. I want to be here if you need anything.”

“Okay.” Caleb concedes, knowing well that yes, there’s no way to change his mind on the matter. But his own thoughts insist that he at least try to protest it, as guilty as he feels for waking up Mollymauk and making him worry. “That … would be kind of you, _Schatz.”_ He brings Molly’s knuckles up to his lips, pressing a weak kiss against them.

“Anytime, dear.” Molly starts to shift off of the bed and Caleb reluctantly lets go of his hand. “You need a new shirt, for starters, your’s is sort of gross.”

“Oh. I suppose it is.” He crinkles his nose as he looks looks down at his sweat covered shirt before pulling it over his head, balling it up and tossing over in the direction of his pack.

Mollymauk walks over to their things in the corner, still graceful as ever, tail swishing softly behind him. He crouches and starts to rummage through Caleb’s pack, throwing one of his shirts over his shoulder but he continues to dig through the bag for another handful of moments. He stands up in a single, graceful motion before turning exaggeratedly on his heel and making his way back over; Caleb smiles softly to himself, a bead of fondness growing in his heart just by watching his partner and he forgets how tired he feels for a moment.

Molly leans down to kiss Caleb’s forehead before sitting cross-legged in front of him on the bed, setting a book and a waterskin beside himself and handing the shirt to Caleb. He slips it over his shoulders and goes to start to button it, but Molly gently swats his hands aside and starts to work on the buttons. Caleb’s learned in their time together that Mollymauk likes to fuss over people he cares about, that’s his way of showing his love so Caleb lets it happen, though it always embarrasses him to no end.

Molly only buttons the shirt a little past halfway, scratches gently at his exposed chest and leans in a bit, puckering his lips in a kissy-face. Caleb closes the distance to kiss him, huffing out a laugh when Molly parts with a loud _mwah._ He offers Caleb the waterskin.

“I really appreciate you, you know.” Caleb says, taking a long sip of water, frowning to himself when he notes his hands are still shaking. “It means a lot. To have someone help me with my … bullshit. Words don’t do it, really, _Liebe.”_

Molly cups Caleb’s cheek, leaning in to press their foreheads together and Caleb has to look down after a second. 

“I’m here for you through everything, Caleb, that’s a promise. I love you so fuckin’ much and I’ll do whatever I can to make things a little easier for you.” Caleb has to close his eyes to stop the tears pricking behind them due to his partner’s kindness, once again. He rests his hand over Mollymauk’s. “I’ve got my bullshit, too - you know this very well - but we’ve got each other, though, to help out.”

“We really collectively have a lot of baggage, huh.” Caleb jokes, trying to break the seriousness, sure he’s actually going to cry again if it continues.

“...Yeah, frankly it’s sort of disturbing, the amount of garbage we carry, but. That’s life, I guess.” Molly shrugs, chuckling somewhat nervously before pulling away from Caleb with a kiss to his forehead and a pat to his cheek. “Want to get through some of our book? I can read.”

_“Ja,_ sounds good to me.”

Molly smiles, grabbing the book before shuffling around on the bed to prop himself back against the pillows, wiggling a bit to settle himself in better. It sort of reminds Caleb of a cat and he has to smile to himself as he goes to rest against Molly’s side, settling his head on his shoulder and nestling against him. Molly kisses his forehead and snuggles him closer before opening the book in his lap.

They’ve gotten into a habit of picking up a book just for them to read to one another. Caleb loves it when Molly reads to him; his reading voice is somehow even more gentle and calming than his default and Molly’s said similar about Caleb’s voice, among other things (all of which embarrassed him to no end). It’s a nice way for them to share a few moments together.

Molly starts reading and Caleb listens intently for a while, but his attention drifts off to listening more absentmindedly for some time, happily taking in the sound of Molly’s voice, his warmth, and his smell. He doesn’t quiet fall asleep but he’s at least able to close his eyes for a few minutes before his anxiety, predictably, starts to kick up again and he’s back to be being alert. As the time passes and some early morning light starts to creep in through the window, Molly eventually trails off and falls asleep, but Caleb doesn’t mind. Just being around him is far more than enough.


	2. but still i find you here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, I relate a lot of Mollymauk's feelings towards Lucien like dysphoria and he does get referred to as Lucien in his nightmare, as well, and there's also brief descriptions of being buried alive, just as a warning to consider before reading ahead! There is no explicit gender dysphoria, but just, sometimes this stuff can show up in weird ways, you know. Please let me know if there's anything I missed.

There’s little variance in these dreams, they mostly follow a formula, but perhaps it’s the variance that sticks with Mollymauk the most.

They always start simple, unremarkable like any other dream before he picks up on small things that aren’t right, that start to leave a sour taste in his mouth before they all start to build up and have his heart twisting and his hands shaking before he gets thrown into the predictable. He hates how casual his nightmares start, like he was recalling a memory and most nights he _does_ worry it’s all a memory; Lucien trying to pry their way through and pick away at the paint that makes up Mollymauk Tealeaf until there’s nothing left to show. He tries his hardest to box it all away, shove it in a distant corner of his mind but in the space of loneliness it easily makes itself known and even barely entertaining the thought that Lucien is still kicking around his brain makes him sick.

Tonight, it started as a hunt for some creature in the woods.There’s some intent or purpose for tracking the creature, Molly’s sure, but whatever that may be is lost to him as he travels with his group through the greying forest. 

The little things that tip him off in this instance: one, no ink peaks through the sleeve of his coat - only the singular, burning red eye that stares back at him. Two, there’s no twinkling of jewelry as he walks, no rings on his fingers or thin gold chains hanging from his neck. Three, perhaps the most obvious, Cree is with the group - among others - though none of the Nein are to be found. 

It’s all wrong but it’s also disgustingly familiar, leading this group like it’s second nature through the woods, following some creature’s trail on instinct. By the time they stop at the entrance of some abandoned, far-gone temple or tomb of sorts, Molly already feels his heart beating rapid-fire against his rib cage.

“Lucien,” Cree starts and just hearing the name leaves a disgusting taste in his mouth. “We need to get going, Nonagon, there’s not time for standing around-”

Logically, Molly knows none of this is real - it can’t be, it _can’t,_ nothing he’s learned about Lucien came from his own memories, they were all someone else’s words, this is all _fake_ \- but even despite that, he can never throw himself out of these nightmares. Even knowing what’s next, knowing how it’s going to make me feel disoriented and sick and false, he walks into the tomb.

There’s so many mirrors, so many Lucien’s staring back at him, eyes uncharacteristically angry and posture uninviting and so _bland,_ wearing Molly’s skin but it’s not _him, it’s not._ The name Lucien is bouncing off the walls, quiet at first, but it builds, builds until the sights and sounds are _paralyzing,_ eventually stopping as he runs down the endless hall, crumpling to the ground. He screws his eyes shut and covers his ears with his hands but it’s not enough, the cacophony of voices whispering the name of a person long gone growing far too loud and the image of them branded into his eyelids. 

The voices feel so, _so_ close it’s suffocating and when he swears he feels a hand brush against the back of his neck, he jolts and unravels himself, claws lashing wildly to fend off whatever tried to touch him. He lets out a yelp of surprise as his attention catches on the reflection underneath him; again, Lucien, staring back. The reflection’s no longer static and the moment he notices movement he screams, driving his fist into the reflection over, over, and over again.

As his fist connects with the broken mirror once more, a hand emerges from the pieces, nails digging into his wrist and tugging him down into the darkness. The last things he sees is Lucien staring down at him, scoffing before they begin to kick earth on top of him. He tries to fight it, of course, nails digging desperately for some way out, yelling until his lungs won’t let him any more. He chokes on the earth lining his throat, coughing to try to expel it but it just works against him and soon he’s feeling dizzy and desperate and there’s nothing more he can do.

With another desperate wheeze, he wakes up with a jolt, hands immediately scrambling up to his throat as he gasps. For a long moment it feels like he’s not getting enough air, no matter how many breaths he takes and some logical part of Molly manages to peak through, tells himself to take fewer, deeper breaths. It takes almost too long but eventually he forces his breathing to even out, even as his heartbeat continues to race.

It all sort of hits Molly in the quiet, then, a sudden pulse of dread coating his throat and lungs that sends tears pricking strong behind his eyes. He feels … misplaced. Disoriented, utterly _wrong_ in a way that makes his skin crawl. He looks at one of his hands, finds the red eye staring back at him which only causes the dread to settle deeper within, finding home in the pit of his stomach, making way for a few tears to slip past and roll down his cheeks.

Molly carefully sits up and digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the tears in their tracks, like if he stops up the exit, his emotions will cease and he’ll be fine and he can just forget and go back to sleep, pretend he doesn’t want to crawl out of his skin right now. Molly takes a deep breath, tries his best to restrain the stuttering so he doesn’t wake up Caleb; he’s such a light sleeper, it doesn’t take much more than a few unrestrained sobs to rouse him, Molly’s learned.

Gods, does he want to wake up Caleb, though, to have his presence fill the emptiness of the room with life so he can forget how fucking hollow he feels, to abandon the loneliness seizing his heart. He hates waking the man up, though - despises the brief look of fear that always paints across his face when he’s woken up suddenly, how the look remains for another few moments until he realises the situation and has to stitch himself together just for Molly’s sake. 

Caleb goes through enough on his own, he doesn’t deserve to stress over trying to piece Molly back together, just because he’s feeling a little shitty and lost and can’t wait another few hours to glue himself back together on his own accord. 

He takes another deep breath, still shaky as he moves hands to grip his biceps, little sparks of pain dancing across his nerves as his claws scratch against his skin at the tight grip. He’ll be fine, he tells himself, and he almost believes it for a short moment before his composure slips and his thoughts plummet, tears freely rolling down his cheeks.

It’s a complete impulse that Mollymauk reaches out his hand to Caleb, squeezing his partner’s forearm to get him to rouse. He jumps awake and there’s the panic Mollymauk hates to see so much for a moment until he realises who it is.

_“Was ist-”_ Caleb tries to rub the bleariness from his eyes with a palm, lazy in his movements until Molly lets out a poorly restrained sob and it clicks, apparently, and Caleb sits up quickly. “Molly, _Schatzi?_ Are you alright?”

Molly shakes his head, a tiny whine slipping out between his lips, still trying his best to contain himself. He looks away as Caleb summons a dim light into the room - more for his own sake, probably, but it’s also somewhat comforting for Molly to a better visual where he is, even if Caleb doesn’t realise that. Caleb shifts around on the bed to sit in front of him, hands reaching out gingerly to try to grasp Molly’s where they have a vice-grip on his own biceps. He forces himself to let go, letting Caleb hold them in his lap, the wizard’s thumbs stroking soothingly over his knuckles. The contact is nice, Caleb’s hands bright and warm against his own.

“You can squeeze my hands if it helps at all, Molly. I just did not want you to hurt yourself on accident.” He says, voice soft and caring, but still a heavy, welcomed weight in the negative space of the room. Molly gives his hands a quick squeeze. “Can you talk right now?”

“I - _don’t -”_ His voice cracks as he starts to sob again, completely giving up on holding back his ugly tears, not sure how much longer he could keep them holed up, anyway. 

Caleb leans forward to press a firm kiss against Molly’s forehead.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay.” He soothes, flexes his grip on his partner’s hands. “Squeeze my hand if it was your nightmare again.”

Molly does. It helps to know Caleb’s on the same page as him, he knows Mollymauk’s reoccurring nightmare almost as well as he does, understands why it makes him so vehemently upset since Molly’s gone into detail about it in the past. 

“I see.” Caleb nods thoughtfully before bringing up one of Molly’s hands to press a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I’m sorry, Mollymauk.”

His name sounds so perfect on Caleb’s tongue, breaking through the noise in his head. The sound wraps tight around him, protective and comforting, like a blanket. Mollymauk takes a deep breath to try to reel himself in.

“Is it alright if I touch you more than just holding your hands?”

“Please,” Molly chokes out, surprising himself and Caleb at sureness behind it.

He gets it, though, and crawls up into Mollymauk’s lap, wrapping an arm around him so he can rub circles into his back, Caleb’s other hand cupping the back of his head and gently coaxing Molly to press his forehead into his shoulder. It’s best described as being cradled, really, especially when Caleb starts to rock him gently, rubbing circles into Molly’s back and stroking his hair. Molly wraps his arms tight around Caleb’s waist and lets out a muffled whine against his chest, another little sob wracking Mollymauk’s body. 

He’s very much a tactile person and it’s good to have Caleb’s weight in his lap, to feel fingers scratching at his scalp and to have a careful, firm hand rubbing up and down his spine. Molly feels childish at how much just simply getting attention helps soothe him after a while - but right now, he can’t be bothered to care. He just wants to calm down. He just wants to feel like he’s himself.

“I’ve got you, Mollymauk. It’s going to be alright.” Caleb coos quietly, pressing a kiss into Molly’s hair. “You’re safe with me, alright?”

Molly nods, saying a muffled _‘I love you’_ against Caleb’s chest which he’s not quite sure is even audible, giving his partner another squeeze. 

“I love you, too. Very much so.” Caleb says and though Molly knows this very well by now it still sends a bubble of warmth through his chest. “And do you know why I love you, Mollymauk Tealeaf?”

“ ‘Cause I’m pretty.” He jokes weakly.

He hears and feels Caleb chuckle, imagines the tiny, cute smile on his face and Molly smiles back against him at the thought, sniffling. Caleb shifts Mollymauk around enough so he can look at his face, cupping Molly’s jaw with both hands, thumbs carefully wiping away strays tears off his cheeks. 

“That is - that is one thing, yes. You are beautiful.” Caleb says softly. “But there are so many things. You are so vibrant and unique in every way, _Liebe,_ no one else is like you. You’re so kind to the world, even when it’s so hard to be, so full of life and forgiveness and love. How accepting you are is … incredible, to everyone, really, not just me. You care so, so much, about everything. It’s beautiful.”

Caleb leans down kiss Mollymauk softly, one hand slipping away from his jaw to settle on his chest.

“And I love how you twinkle like a little bell when you walk and how your laughs sound almost just like it, how your trail wraps around my hand when you’re excited and the look of awe on your face when you see something new, like the fireworks in Hupperdook. And, _ja,_ you are very pretty. And also a bit of a shithead, but I love that, too. I just love _you.”_

Molly’s lower lip trembles a bit, tears threatening again but this time it’s a different kind so he reaches up to pull Caleb down to meet his lips in a kiss. He holds him there for a long moment before letting go and resting his head back on Caleb’s chest, nuzzling against his neck. Caleb resumes petting Molly’s hair.

“Don’t make me cry again, Caleb.” 

“It is okay if you do, though.” Caleb presses another kiss into his hair. “You’re very mushy. It’s cute.”

“Says the man who just said one of the mushiest things I’ve ever heard come out of his mouth.” 

“It was not - I was just - reminding you who you are, I’m not … squishy like that.” 

Molly can almost feel the heat rising in Caleb’s face and he chuckles, wrapping his arms around Caleb in more of a proper hug, scratching softly at his back with his some of his claws. 

“Of course not, baby. Of course not.” Molly smiles again, pressing a tiny kiss to Caleb’s throat. “You didn’t tear up at all the first time I told you I loved you or anything, not at all.”

Caleb hums against Molly, starting to rock him gently in his lap again. It’s a long while that they just stay there like that, in the quiet, the silence not as harmful when Caleb’s around. 

“If you are up to it, how does a bath sound? And perhaps some tea?” Caleb asks eventually.

“Oh, that sounds lovely.” It really does. He’s certainly improved since waking up, definitely, but part of Molly still feels … apprehensive, unnerved. A bath sounds perfect right now. “You’re too kind to me, darling.”

Caleb starts to crawl out of Molly’s lap, holding one of his hands out for Molly to take once he’s standing properly. “You deserve all of it. And more, really.”

Molly grasps his hand and slides off of the bed, bending down to kiss Caleb’s forehead. They grab what’s needed and Caleb asks one of the ghost attendants to prepare tea and bring it to them once finished before Caleb leads them both down the hallway towards the baths, hand still in Mollymauk’s, quiet as to try not to disturb the others as they pass by their rooms.

This has to be Molly’s favorite room in Caleb’s phantom mansion - besides his own room, maybe. The baths resemble more of a hotspring really, the rather large pool set into the floor, lined with various stones at the edges. The water seems to always be the perfect temperature and Caleb implemented some system to let old water cycle out, new water flowing in through a small waterfall off the wall. It’s fantastic, really, most nights when they stay in the mansion Molly finds it hard to keep himself away.

Caleb strips down out of line of the mirror hanging on the wall but Molly does stay in it’s sight, careful at first. He cautions a few glances at himself, part of him worried he’s not going to see the right person in the reflection, but it’s no nightmare, so Mollymauk eventually holds himself proudly. Albeit it’s not the best he’s ever looked in his life, eyes tired and puffy, hair a mess, but it’s still _him,_ and it’s _right._

Caleb’s already sitting in the bath, water just about up to his chest when Molly gets in. He gestures vaguely to the space in front him, inviting Molly over to sit with him, and he takes it, settling in the open space between Caleb’s legs.

“I can wash your hair, if you’d like.”

“Ugh, man after my own heart.” Molly’s tail finds Caleb’s waist under the water and coils gently around him, tail spade flicking back and forth pleasantly. “Yes, please.”

“If I do not have it by now, apparently I need to try harder.” Caleb huffs a short laugh, fingers tracing the length of Mollymauk’s spine.

“Oh, Caleb, dear,” He takes a moment to dunk his head under water to sufficiently wet it. “It’s been your’s for a really long time, even if you didn’t know it yet. Not too long after we met, really.”

He smiles when he looks over his shoulder to see Caleb blushing, smiling shyly to himself, finger drawing some little pattern into Molly’s back. “I’m - I am not sure when you got mine. I am very … feelings-stupid.”

Molly snorts, leaning back enough to give him a kiss on the cheek. “My lovely boy, feelings-stupid and mushy.” 

“That is fair.” 

“So you admit to it, then? Being squishy?”

Caleb gives him a playful little poke in the ribs. “Quiet, you. Let me wash your hair.”

“Yes, dear.”

Caleb begins to wash Mollymauk’s hair, carefully working the ointment in, taking his sweet time. Molly melts into the feeling, tension leaving his body as Caleb chats about a new spell he’s trying to work out. At some point the tea does come but Molly leaves it abandoned for the most part, especially after Caleb’s done with his hair. He massages Mollymauk’s back and shoulders for a while, eventually giving that up in favor of memorising the elaborate tattoos across lavender skin, switching between feather-light kisses and curious brushes of fingers along the ink. Molly lets himself get lost in the feeling.

He never feels more right than when he’s alongside Caleb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot to put together something I was satisfied enough with, esp since I relate a lot to Molly and tried to really get the feel of everything worded right. I hope you enjoyed. I think I got a bit carried away with the fluff/comfort but you can pry Molly "emotionally touchy feels-y" Tealeaf from my cold hands so ((plus these boys deserve some pampering, anyway))  
> Currently working on some more in depth multi-chapter stuff for widomauk and some other CR stories I'm excited to share.
> 
> Any comments are appreciated!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I hope Molly's insistence with Caleb when trying to comfort him didn't come off as him being frustrated or condescending or anything - to me it seems like Caleb would need a bit less coddling and more firmness when being comforted, if that makes sense at all?
> 
> Working on a part two from Mollymauk's perspective with his own nightmare, not sure when it'll be up, though. Thank you for reading and lmk what you think! <3


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